"Waiting on a Sunday afternoon," I sang underneath my breath as I helped Lori hang clothes on the line. "For what I read between the lines…"

She smiled at me and I realized I was singing a little louder than I meant to be. "Sorry." I said. She shook her head.

"Stone Temple Pilots?" She asked. "Isn't that a little before your time?"

I shrugged. "90-94." I said. "Best time for rock and roll."

Rick, who was walking past, stopped. "I think that was '84. Van Halan's Panama."

I shook my head. "What? No way. Seattle, 1991. Grunge Volume One." I sighed. "If you weren't there, you couldn't possibly understand the magic."

Rick blinked. "You weren't even born." I held up my hand.

"Irrelevant." I told him. "At least your wife knows STP when she hears it, even if it is being mangled horribly."

"STP." Rick shook his head. "And you're what, all of fourteen?"

"I will be in a few days." I said, grinning.

"Shouldn't girls your age be listening to, I don't know that Bieber kid?" He asked. "Instead of rocking out to Nirvana and Pearl Jam?"

I snorted. "Please. I do not listen to the Beibs. I like to rock out." I did a quick headbang. "Go ask my Dad, it drives him nuts too."

Since I was feeling better and Dad was tired of sleeping in the house, we'd moved back out to our tent, in the yard with everyone else.

"Daryl?" Rick called.

"What?"

"Does Libby's choice in music get on your nerves?"

"Yeah." He answered. "Merle and me, we tried to get her into Skynyrd or Aerosmith, but no, it had to be Soundgarden and Alice in Chains."

Rick nodded. "Aerosmith." He said. "That's my man in there."

"Oh, don't let him fool you." I raised my voice, to be sure my Dad heard. "His favorite song is Lady, by Styx. He knows all the words by heart and he sings it in the shower. Badly."

"So, that's where you get your lack of musical talent?" Lori teased and I grinned.

"Must be." We went back to hanging clothes and Rick went on his way to whatever he was doing.

"Actually, Libby, I wanted to ask you something." Lori said. I looked at her.

"What's up?"

"I know you're very smart, and as you probably noticed, Carl is awful in English. I was wondering if you could maybe tutor him." She smiled. "I know it probably not how you want to spend your spare time, but it'd be great if you could."

I nodded. "Sure, sounds like fun."

She nodded and smiled. "Thank you."

She had a couple of English workbooks she gave me.

"How do you want me to do this?" I asked.

"Just start from the beginning." She replied. "I have a feeling he'll listen to you a lot quicker than he did me or any of his teachers."

The first thing I needed to do, I decided, was to make sure he knew and understood grammar terms, so I decided to make up some flashcards. I got a stack of index cards from Dale and an ink pen and headed back to our tent to get to work.

Andrea was coming out as I went in.

"Hey," She said. I looked up at her, but didn't say anything. She smiled. "Come on now, Libby. Your Daddy's willing to forgive me, why can't you?"

Still I didn't say anything, just continued on into our tent. My Dad was lying on his cot, reading a book.

"You oughta be nicer to her." He said without even looking up.

"Are you serious?" I asked him, sitting down on my own cot. "God, she shot you."

"She was just protecting the camp." He told me. "I don't hold no hard feelin's for that."

"What if she'd accidently shot me while protecting the camp?" I asked. "Still not holdin' any hard feelings?"

He didn't meet my eyes. "That's different."

"Liar." I said.

He shook his head and looked at what I held in my hands. "What's that you got there?"

"Lori asked me to tutor Carl in English." I told him. "I'm making up some flashcards of grammar terms."

He snorted and shook his head. I glared at him. "What?"

"Oughta be more worried about him learnin' to shoot and protect himself instead of all that book stuff." He said. "Ain't no use for it now."

"There's always a use for proper grammar and book learning." I said primly. I looked up to see him grinning. "Now what?"

He shook his head again. "Just wonderin' how a girl like you came from a dumb redneck like me."

I went to him and kissed his forehead. "You aren't a dumb redneck." I told him. "Now, I'm going to make these flashcards and you're going to help me."

He sighed. "Libby, you know I ain't no good at that shit."

"All you have to do is read me the word and definition." I said, handing him the book. "Start here, at noun, and we'll work our way through."

He sat his book aside. "Fine." He said, taking the workbook from me. "Noun: a person, place, thing, or idea. Common Noun: a general noun. Proper Noun: a specific noun."

And that's how we spent the next few hours.

Sixty-one flashcards later, my Dad had sent me out of our tent, telling me to "go play in the sunshine and act like a normal damn kid for once". I did as I was told, but grabbed the stack of cards on the way out. I found Carl in shadow of the RV.

"Libby," He whispered. "Come here and see what I've got."

"What?" I asked, hurrying towards him. He was wearing his Dad's police hat. I liked the way it looked on him.

He lifted his shirt to show me a gun tucked into his pants. I sucked in my breath. "Carl, where did you get that?" I hissed. "Why do you have it?"

He blinked. "To protect you." He said.

"My Dad protects me!"

Carl looked almost confused. "But…he's hurt. He might not be able to, so I will."

I didn't even know how to reply to that. I looked around to see Shane headed our way. "Quick!" I muttered. "Put it away! Act natural!"

He pulled his shirt down over it and we leaned against the RV.

Shane looked at each of us in turn. "What's happening, kiddos?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing."

He looked at Carl, who also shrugged. "Nothing."

"That's it?" He asked. "Nothing?"

I nodded. "Well…I'm tutoring Carl in English." Shane smiled.

Carl looked at me and then back at the older man. "I wanna learn to shoot. So does Libby."

I didn't really, but I kept quiet. Shane gave us both hard looks again.

"Now, that's something you need to talk to your parents about." He said. "That's their call, and with Libby here just being back on her feet, I don't know that her Daddy is gonna like that idea too much."

I shrugged. This was Carl's rodeo, I was just along for the ride. Shane was looking at him hard again. "What'd you got there, little buddy?" He asked him and Carl showed him the gun.

I sighed and that had Shane looking at me. "Were you in on this?" He asked while snatching the gun away from Carl.

"Uh…" I glanced at my friend. I didn't want to get him in trouble, but I didn't want to get in trouble for something I didn't do.

"She didn't." Carl told him. "I just showed it to her right before you came over here."

Shane's gaze was back on me. "That true?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I was in my tent making grammar flashcards before that. You can ask my Dad, if you want."

"No, I believe you." Shane said. "But you better head on back there, because when Lori finds out that Carl here's been toting a gun around, it ain't gonna be pretty."

I nodded again and walked back to our tent. Dad was asleep, so I lay down on my own cot and tried to ignore it when the yelling started.

It had been decided. Carl and I were going to learn how to shoot. My Dad was all for the idea, as I suspected he would be.

"I tried to teach her years ago." He told Shane, who had come by to ask permission for me to go along. "But she wouldn't have nothin' to do with it." He looked at me. "I'm surprised she wants to now."

I shrugged. "If Carl's gonna learn, so am I." And I kept it at that.

But when we were piled in Shane's SUV, I whispered to Carl, "You got me into this, but tomorrow, when I'm tutoring you, you better freakin' pay attention and learn, or I'm gonna kick the shit out of you."

He grinned at me. "Yes, ma'am."

I was wearing an old baseball cap of Shane's to keep the sun out of my face. My brown hair was poking out of the back in a long ponytail; the sun was starting to lighten it up to a dark blonde.

"All right, focus now." Rick said to me. He was leaning over me, and he positioned my hands on the gun correctly. I pulled the trigger and the bottle I was aiming at shattered.

"I did it!" I said, looking up at him. "Did you see that? I hit it!"

Rick smiled, ruffled my hair. "You're doing real good, hon." He told me. "Real good."

I smiled at him, but I was secretly wishing it was my father there teaching me.

Authors Note's: To understand the Daryl/Styx reference, you must read my side story to this one, Wild Horses. And while you're at it, check out my Boondock Saints fic, The Only Exception. Shamlessly plugging myself here. :D